


and the d[A]wn of something better

by a silly doll (tweetiepie)



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: 2B and 9S have the world's unhealthiest relationship tbh and that shit's getting Addressed, Angst, Anxiety, Canon-Typical Violence, D was the canon one for this fic, Depression, Dreams and Nightmares, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Only very occasional smut tho, Original Character(s), PTSD, Post-Canon, Recovery, Romance, Set after ending E, Smut, Spoilers, and it'll be segregated into its own chapters so you totally don't have to read it either, but that's why you're here, heavy spoilers, honestly it's gonna be so gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-11-15 14:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18074810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tweetiepie/pseuds/a%20silly%20doll
Summary: Everything that lives is designed to end.And end it did.But not every end is The End.Often, an end just represents the beginning of something new.  And sometimes second chances are granted.At the culmination of many ends, a new Beginning is afforded.





	1. recl[A]mation

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, this is actually my first fic on here! I've written a few fics before I guess, but they've always been private, shared between close friends.  
> Just to set a general bit of info for this work, there Will be NSFW (read: Smutty) sections, but they'll be like Cordoned off from the rest of the work and given their own chapters. So you don't have to interface with those unless you want to~  
> Ummm I guess that's all I have to say for now? I do wanna say I'm excited to be working on this, and I hope you guys end up enjoying it!  
> Leave a comment if you have any constructive criticism, or just wanna say how you felt about it! I always appreciate getting feedback on my work c:  
> Enjoy!

Everything that lives is designed to end. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending spiral of life and death. Is this a curse? Or some kind of punishment? I’ve often thought about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle… and wonder if we'll ever get the chance to kill him. But then… would that make me any better? Do I even care?

‡

“Go… 39d m… 7ng, 2B”

Pod 042’s voice flickered in her sensors like a sparrow being torn from the sky by a hurricane. Her eyes fluttered weakly, and her eyelids couldn’t open more than halfway before her synthetic musculature gave out. And even then only one at a time.

The roaring of a river dominated her hearing and her vision. No. Wait. That was static.

The roaring of static dominated her hearing and her vision, and, from what she could tell, filled her limbs and danced along her extremities. Her torso blazed with heat and shivered with cold.

“Appppppp… l78. . g……… a…...ral c99999re.”

The incessant noise in her ears cleared up, and she could hear the wind gently ruffling through nearby leaves. She opened her mouth to thank Pod 042, but…

“TtttTTTtTt..hh333”

“Applying manipulation cure.”

“T… thank you,” she forced out between gritted teeth, too short on breath.

“You’re welcome, 2B. Applying visual cure.”

Finally, all of the static that pervaded her senses faded into seafoam that washed away. The blue sky greeted her through her visor, fluffy white clouds drifting lazily on the breeze. Red error messages and alerts hung between them like nails on a chalkboard.

“What happened?” 2B groaned as she fumbled for the hilt of her sword to leverage herself up. Pain lanced through her as she rose too quickly—her right leg sparked and bled just under the hip. When she reached out with her left arm for the building she’d apparently crashed up against, white hot agany tore a gasp from her throat.

“Alert: Unit 2B has sustained heavy damage from a concussive blast. Analysis: It is fortunate that Unit 2B received DaWN’s package of combat upgrades. Had Unit 2B still been utilizing her core YoRHa model, it is likely that… destruction would have ensued.”

Air hissed through her teeth. She’d come that close to destruction? It’s not as though she was a stranger to her body being destroyed, but. These days……

A flash of red in her memory banks. Sharp pain in her abdomen. Long white hair fluttering like knives. Nines.

She grimaced, her hand hovering over a spot just above her pelvis. Remembered pain ghosted through her. Somehow that pain had been sharper than any she’d felt before, and sweeter than… anything she’d felt. The life of a combat android was not a peaceful one. The life of 2B was less so than most.

“Alert: Unit 2B’s black box is registering temperatures above safe operating range. Alert: Unit 2B’s vital signs are below safe operating range. Proposal: Unit 2B should return to the forward operating base and administer repairs.”

“Nevermind that, Pod. The mission comes first.”

“Proposal: Unit 2B should administer staunching gel and logic virus vaccines to prevent contamination and infection.”

She almost disagreed with that, too. But… Red eyes flashed in her mind. The feeling of a blade rising and falling without end. The screams and laughter of people she’d called allies intermingled into a hideous cacophony.

“Very well.”

Her movements were quick and precise, applying the gel that would stop the bleeding and preventing particulate matter from entering her system, cinching bandages here and there.

“Pod, please help me fashion a sling for my left arm. Doing it myself with only one hand would be… difficult.” She added the last bit almost as an afterthought.

“Affirmative. Proposal: Hold still.” The pod was as good as his word, and his four arms made short work of binding the arm to her ribs.  
2B flexed experimentally and found that she couldn’t move her arm at all; it was simply bound too tightly to allow any movement. Which honestly suited her purposes—her mission here wasn’t complete.

“Thank you,” she whispered gently, rubbing 042 on his top panel. “Pod, run a scan for A2’s black box signal. I need to find her and… make sure she’s okay.”

“Affirmative. Running a scan now. Alert: Weak black box signal detected. Transmitting location data of Unit A2’s position.”

She thanked the pod quietly, but she was too distracted to offer more than that. A2’s black box signal was weak? Was she hurt, or… worse? A2 was far more than a competent fighter than anyone else 2B knew, but still. Even she could be overwhelmed.

Her legs carried her forth seemingly of their own accord, each step sending a jolt of pain that she pointedly ignored. The landscape quickly became a blur around her, trees and dilapidated buildings and boulders fading into the background. The only sounds were the roar of the wind as it rushed past her ears, and the staccato rhythm of her feet flashing beneath her.

 **Pain**  
_I have to help…_  
**Pain**  
_I have to save her…_  
**Pain**  
_I have to save…_

An explosion tore through the air, ripping apart her thoughts like so much paper. A massive shadow loomed over her, and 2B leapt into the air as a missile strike obliterated the patch of earth she’d been stepping on a moment before. Her body twisted in the air, her right arm held poised and ready as a dancer’s.

Her visor logged a missile bearing down on the location the black box signal was originating from—a position that happened to coincide with the path 2B traveled along. A burst of light. An explosion.

2B’s blade flashed out, meeting barely any resistance as it neatly bifurcated the projectile. The explosion sent her into a tumble, the ground whirling beneath her. With hardly a thought, 2B adjusted the angle of her body to better correlate with her sudden change in velocity. Her legs traced an elegant arc above her and her hand stretched out above her—towards the ground. The second she felt her fingers brush the rough earth she let her momentum carry her the rest of the way into a picture perfect cartwheel. Her feet skidded against the ground as she slid several meters, finally coming to a halt near a rain of fireflies.

Or sparks. Or a discarded Full-Spectrum Cloak, newly developed and recently implemented into A2’s combat systems.

“Damn, you been practicing that one, 2B?”

“I don’t often seek out the opportunity to perform explosion-assisted acrobatics. For the record.”

“Proposal: Units A2 and 2B should direct their attention towards the Goliath-class machine lifeform currently engaged in combat with them,” Pod 317’s alto voice spoke dryly across the battlefield.”

“Less talking, more fighting, Pod.”

“But–”

“Move!”

“Pod!” 2B yelled out as she surged from the ground as fast her damaged legs could carry her. Her right hand shot out and grasped; she trusted 042 would be there. Her trust showed to be well-placed, as it ever was in her constant companion.

Two of Pod 042’s hands closed around her hand and wrist, and the small grey box twirled her through the air. A split second later, a rain of pulverized concrete and rebar pelted her, bouncing off of her skin like hailstones. Thankfully, none of them managed to do much more than leave surface-level scratches.

So that was the power of its concussive blasts, that it could destroy a building’s facade so easily. _I’m lucky that it didn’t do the same to me…_

The enormous machine made a sound somewhere between a roar and a screech, turning its ruined face towards 2B. Flashing red eyes set their sights directly on her, and one of its massive, blunt arms lifted into the air. Then, faster than 2B thought possible, it came crashing towards her.

A black blur surged across her field of vision, colliding heavily with the arm and knocking it aside. A massive gust of wind tore at her hair and skirts; the blow from the Goliath was fast.

A2 dropped to a crouch right in front of her and shook her hair out.

“We’re even now!” Her pod unleashed a hail of gunfire on the Goliath to draw its ire, and A2 set right back into motion, Virtuous Contract appearing in her hand in a storm of light.

“Pod, execute tactic fourteen!” 2B dashed towards the Goliath as it spun in a slow circle, attempting to track the other android’s movements. Its bullets were painfully slow compared to its other tactics. Clever.

Her pod sped through the air and hovered at shoulder level a few meters in front of her. In a second she had cleared the space between them. In a second she was soaring through the air, having used Pod 042 as a place to leap from.

The Type-5I Blade appeared in her hand as the air burned around it—its opalescent blue blade seemed to slice the air in front of it, rather than push it out of the way. Her hair and skirts rippled behind her, and she could almost the sensation of soaring through the air. The Goliath’s face turned towards her as A2 completed a full circle around the machine.

A clunk, a tug of resistance, and then freedom once more. Her blade cleared the other side of the monstrous machine’s left arm, and she landed almost gracefully behind it. Almost.

2B’s leg sent a spear of pain up her body, and she grimaced as she fell to her knee. She’d be in dire need of repairs when this battle finished.

“Nice work, Pod.”

She forced herself, agonizingly, back to her feet and turned back to the battle. The Goliath was screeching—a hideous noise that almost made 2B want to turn off her noise receptors. Almost.

A2 skidded to a quick halt next to 2B, and a small storm of dirt kicked up around her feet.

“Ready to finish this, 2B?”

“Right,” 2B nodded.

2B opened her right hand and dropped the Type-5I Blade. The weapon disappeared in a flash and reappeared behind her, held aloft by a halo of light. Pod 042 opened up with a hail of gunfire as she did so, the two’s wills operating in unison.

The Goliath took a step towards her with one of its four legs, stubby in comparison to its oversized arms. Its face started to slowly open, and the air seemed to distort around its edges—it was gearing up for another concussive attack! A2 wasted no time, and Pod 317 launched a volley of missiles directly into its exposed features.

The machine lifeform stumbled backwards, its red eyes flashing angrily and wildly. Its remaining arm began to lift into the air and slid back along its frame, cocking once it reached the very back.

 _3…_  
2…  
“Now!”

2B and A2 were there, and then they weren’t. One second, the monstrous arm was flying towards them with blistering speed, surely going to pulverize them. The next, the two androids were atop the arm, running along its length. 2B took the lead, dashing in front of A2. For her part, the Attacker vaulted into the air; her small frame easily carrying her forward.

Her free hand flew out as she spun towards her companion, clasping around A2’s own forearm. 2B did a pirouette in place and tugged with all of her strength. A2 flew forward as if launched out of a canon, Virtuous Contract held at the ready in her left hand, poised to strike.

Calling her own small blade into being in her hand, 2B reared her arm back again and threw it, spear-like, in A2’s direction. A2 deftly caught the 5I Blade and twirled in the air, holding the two swords before her, crossed in the center.

A flash of light. A gust of air.

The Goliath seemed untouched where it stood. A2 landed easily on the other side, falling into a crouch. It made an odd creaking, clicking sound. The metal groaned slowly, unwillingly.

The top half of the Goliath slid forward, crashing into the ground and shaking the earth all around them. A second more of quiet, and then an explosion knocked the breath out of her and blinded her, a roaring, screaming sound filling her ears.

And like that it was done. A2 released her grip on 2B’s blade, and the advanced weapon appeared behind her once more.

“Nice work, sis,” A2 said, rising, Virtuous Contract appearing on her back ringed in light. 

“You’re the one that struck the killing blow,” 2B said, brushing a lock of hair out of her vision.

“Yeah, well. Couldn’t have done it without you. I mean I probably could have, but still. Thanks.”

“I couldn’t forsake you. Or the mission.” 2B turned towards the point that her map data had highlighted, the entire reason the two of them had made the trek out here from their FOB.

“Heh. Somehow you’re worse at this whole ‘people’ing thing than I am,” A2 said sardonically, stepping up to stand beside 2B.

“Shall we see what the remains of the Bunker have in store for us?”

“After you.” A2 lazily lifted her hand and did a half bow.

2B simply nodded at that, stepping forward with a slight limp. The distance between here and the objective honestly wasn’t that far, but her wounds were making the trip take longer than they should have. It felt like she was climbing a low slope, despite the fact that the ground was near-perfectly level.

Still, before long a small crater and blast zone made themselves apparent. The ground was blackened and debris was strewn about haphazardly. It wasn’t the entirety of the Bunker, but it was a small portion. DaWN made an effort to log the chunks of its remains that were floating in orbit still, and took pains to track them when they began to fall to Earth. The bits they were able to find weren’t always useful, or even strictly salvageable.

Despite that, the ruins of YoRHa could provide them the tools they needed to build a better future. YoRHa was gone and wasn’t coming back, but it could still serve a valuable purpose beyond its grave.

This salvage site, however, seemed to be mostly intact. Surprisingly so. Hunks of twisted, melted, and pulverized metal, blastic, and other various building materials made up the bulk of it but. There seemed to be a few data consoles that were more or less not-entirely destroyed. Perhaps bits of data could be recovered from them.

Something else caught her eye, though. A bit of intact lettering could be made out on… perhaps a locker?

2B bent down and moved a particularly mangled bit of rubble off of it. The door was dented and burned in most places, but it was still more or less whole. Her gloved hand reached out and brushed over the nameplate that was affixed to it, trying to clean it and discern its owner. When she saw who it belonged to, her black box felt like it stuttered and whirred in her chest. It likely hadn’t, but.

“6O…”

“What was that?” A2 turned towards her, holding the remains of a gun—she tossed it aside like the garbage it was.

“It’s…” A2’s eyes tracked her own and she seemed to make out the name.

“Ah.”

2B reached out and opened the brutalized door almost tenderly. Inside, there wasn’t much. A scorched uniform, a spare veil. But at the foot of it, there was something that was small and… brown? It almost looked like some kind of bear when 2B picked it up, and it was incredibly soft to the touch. She instinctively hugged it to her.

She hadn’t known that 6O had something like this. She’d never seen something like it before, herself, but… there was a lot that 2B was unaware of.

“Aww, that’s cute. You gonna bring it back to your girlfriend? She’d probably be happy to get it back. Maybe happy enough to–”

“She– I don't– It’s not–”

A2 laughed quietly to herself, seeming to relish 2B’s discomfort. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t short-circuit on me now.”

“One confirmation will suffice,” 2B said, quieter than she had meant to.

A2 rolled her eyes; she realized that she must have dispelled the white holographic visor already. 2B almost blushed as she dispelled her own.

“C’mon, Tubes. Let’s call this in and have this crap sent back to Odyssey.”

“Yeah…” 2B was a mess of conflicted feelings, tangled up inside her and threatening to paralyze her systems, enough that she didn't register the diminutive nickname she'd been given. Was she ready to go back there? More of the fallen were likely awakening every day, and many of them, if not all, were androids that she didn’t know if she was ready to face. 6O had reawakened in the time that she’d been away… was 2B ready? Could she handle seeing her again?

A flash of red. The feel of a blade sliding through an android’s chest. A small whisper.

“Alert: Black box temperature levels are elevated. Proposal: Unit 2B should take care to avoid a catastrophic system overload.”

_Emotions are prohibited. Emotions are prohibited… Emotions are–_

A single tear streaked down her cheek, turning the circle of dust where it landed to mud.

2B held the stuffed bear and shook as A2 radioed back to Odyssey through Pod 317.

_Am I any better?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Type-5I Sword
> 
> Level 1:  
> Archived Message Log  
> I’m excited to start work with you on this new prototype, Jackass! I’ve heard so many incredible stories about you! If the calculations we ran earlier are accurate and this weapon is as powerful as the models predict, we can definitely ensure those on the front lines can protect Odyssey!  
> -16R


	2. out of [B]alance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2B makes her belated return to the settlement known as Odyssey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaa hello again! Thank you for all your love so far~ The fact that you guys are even reading this means a lot to me, and the kudos you're leaving are like a gift c: I really hope you continue to read this, and please feel free to make any thoughts about it known to me in the comments~
> 
> Also I'm sorry that this chapter is somewhat shorter than the last one ;u; I had originally intended for it to be at least twice as long as it is now, but this felt like a natural break for now.

Odyssey had changed a lot since 2B had last seen it.

A new name wasn’t the only thing it had received; the small settlement that had originally been known simply as the Resistance Camp had undergone extensive renovations. Rebuilding efforts had extended out beyond its small borders and around the pond and clearing areas outside of it, and even up into the dilapidated buildings nearby.

2B marvelled at how such simple, natural things as change and renewal could seem like such foreign concepts to her. She, who had lived her life alternately on the Bunker and in the ruins of Earth. The former had been a boulder sitting in the center of a river—unmoving, unchanging. Locked in place within the flow of time as everything else drove steadily forward. The latter _did_ change, but only in one direction—towards entropy and the further destruction of that which came before.

A pair of machine children ran across her path—or, rather, wobbled as best they were able—laughing. An android with dark hair, likely a sign that she had been a former member of the Resistance, chased after them with a grin. When she noticed 2B she offered a friendly wave and a shrug, giving off a laugh like a musical note, before running off after the children again.

Perhaps that change, more than anything, was what was letting Odyssey move towards the future. Now that they were no longer embroiled in a pointless, never-ending war with the machine lifeforms… things could be different. Chaos and destruction would be the exception, rather than the rule.

It was perhaps a vain hope, but one that the androids, machines, and especially 2B clung to. After knowing nothing but death and combat intimately all her life…

2B’s hands involuntarily clenched into fists.

It was loud here. Louder than she’d been prepared for. Her enhanced, and newly repaired, audio sensors were picking up far more idle chatter than she was used to. The sounds of ongoing construction and repairs vied with the myriad voices, the sounds of nature, and the manufacturing of various goods necessary for day-to-day functionality. In the Bunker, that had been segregated. In the Resistance Camp, that had been less numerous. In Pascal’s Village, they had been much more restrained.  
“Alert: Unit 2B’s vitals are dropping below acceptable operating conditions.”

Her eyes scanned over her surroundings, searching for anything to ground her. Anything to anchor her. Her hands fumbled for her old combat visor, the old YoRHa model one that she’d worn for years—she didn’t need it any longer, not with the DaWN models being integrated into their bodies directly, but it was. Familiar. Comforting.

She tied it around the back of her head, under her hair, as she fought to regain control of her breathing. The fabric of the combat visor, snug against her face like a second skin, like a hug, instantly brought a degree of relief to her.

A watchtower, fitted with two gun emplacements, made itself known to her as her eyes roved over Odyssey. The guns were newly designed and manufactured, from the looks of it, replete with eight massive barrels each—a standard-sized pod could fit snuggly into any one of them. Fitted into the center of them, in the middle of all eight barrels, was a high-output laser system.

Seeing something so impressive and so familiar… it was comforting. It was something she _knew_. She made a mental note to stop by the turrets and look them over before she was sent back into the field. Perhaps she would even requisition a log of their specs so that she could look them over in her spare time.

“Alert: Unit 2B’s vitals are back within acceptable range… are you feeling alright, 2B?”

“Emotions are–” came her automatic response. But they weren’t. Not anymore, not since the Bunker fell. Not since YoRHa went extinct. “Emotions are prohibited…” she said again, in a much smaller, quieter voice.

“Negative: Unit 2B knows this to be a falsehood,” Pod 042 replied a few moments slower than he normally would.

2B couldn’t think of a proper response to that. She knew there wasn’t one.

She continued her walk towards the Commander’s new office, being sure to focus on her breathing, on her visor pressed against her face, on her pod floating beside her.

“Proposal: this Pod will travel closer to Unit 2B, to better facilitate transition into an unfamiliar environment.”

She was silent for a few moments. “I’d like that…” came her response a few beats later.

“Affirmative.” Pod 042 was as good as his word, hovering much closer to 2B. The proximity to her longtime companion helped ease her mind and heart even more.

“Thank you, Pod.”

“You’re welcome, 2B.”

The two of them continued in companionable silence for a moment longer, but 2B was the one to break it.

“Pod?”

“Yes, 2B?”

“Where’s A2?”

“Unit A2 received less severe damage to her body, and so didn’t require repairs as extensive as Unit 2B’s. Unit A2 has already met with the joint leaders of DaWN. Hypothesis: Unit A2 is still meeting with the former Resistance leader, Anemone.”

“That makes sense. Thank you, Pod.”

“You’re welcome, 2B.”

The door to the Commander’s office was before them before long. Unlike before, when the Commander was often on the Command Deck surrounded by Operators, now she was given her own private office.

2B stood motionless outside of Commander White’s door, silently waiting to be acknowledged. She almost thought that she could feel _ticks_ within her black box, silently counting down the seconds. It took several minutes, but finally the door slid open, ushering her inside.

The office was a wreck. Papers were strewn about the office, the light fixtures were askew, there were a spare pair of gloves abandoned in different corners of the floor, and… what appeared to be an operator’s veil in another. 2B couldn’t help but raise her eyebrow at the last, but chose not to comment on it. The three large screens mounted on each of the walls other than the entrance dominated the room. In comparison, her desk seemed almost small, though that was far from the case.

“Commander.”

“Please, 2B. I’ve told you, my title is no longer ‘Commander.’ I’m Director White, as of two years ago.” Commander–Director White’s smile was tired— _she_ was tired.

“Right… my apologies, Director.” 2B faltered for a moment—her eyes narrowed behind her visor, and her mouth twitched.

“It’s no trouble; I understand that it’s been some time since you last stepped foot in Odyssey.” The Director’s smile returned. “In fact, that’s precisely why I asked you to return, following your last mission.”

“Director?”

“Please, there’s no need to be so formal. Feel free to have a seat,” White gestured at a nearby chair on the opposite side of her desk.

2B remained motionless. “Standing is fine.”

Director White shrugged as if to say ‘suit yourself.’ “As I was saying, I called you back to Odyssey as I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been deployed to our various forward operating bases for approximately thirteen thousand, two hundred hours.”

2B kept her face carefully passive.

“In other words, somewhat over a year and six months. The same goes for A2.” The Director’s face shifted unreadably as she pronounced her partner’s name, but it was gone in a moment. “I understand that this was your preference, however we’re not YoRHa. Not anymore. We no longer have the liberty—or burden—of ignoring the mental states of our units.”

By design, DaWN recruited far fewer android soldiers than YoRHa previously had.

“That is to say, while our resources may be stretched thin, our soldiers are considered more valuable than mere expendable parts. We can’t afford to have you operating at less than your very best. That is, at least it’s the excuse that you’re most likely to accept. Consider yourself to be on mandatory leave until further notice.”

“But Director–!”

“I understand that you may have some complaints, but this was a unanimous decision by the other leaders and I.” The Director’s stern facade seemed to melt away, replaced by a genuine, bright smile. “Please, you’ve been fighting nonstop for years now. You’ve earned a rest. If you truly can’t manage to enjoy your time off, you can still serve in a helpful capacity to our forces. Just not on the front lines.”

2B sighed, gaze falling to the ground to observe the pristine white flooring. “Yes, Director.”

“Don’t sound so glum, 2B. There are several people who would be most delighted to see you. And scores of others who’d merely be glad for the chance. You may go now.”

She nodded, and turned back towards the door, somewhat listlessly.

“And 2B?”

“Yes, Director?”

“Try to have _some_ fun, alright?”

2B couldn’t help but return a small, very small, smile at that. “I’ll try, Director. Thank you.”

White nodded warmly at 2B, her smile touching her eyes. 2B returned the nod, and turned to leave.

“Proposal: Unit 2B should check in with Admiral Anemone and Administrator Pascal. Additional Proposal: Unit 2B should enjoy her vacation.”

A vacation, huh. What did people do on a vacation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Type-5I Sword
> 
> Level 1:  
> Archived Message Log  
> I’m excited to start work with you on this new prototype, Jackass! I’ve heard so many incredible stories about you! If the calculations we ran earlier are accurate and this weapon is as powerful as the models predict, we can ensure those on the front lines can protect Odyssey!  
> 16R
> 
> Level 2:  
> The energy required to meet even the lowest projected specifications is… excessive. If this weapon can’t even measure up to last generation’s models, how can we hope to protect anybody?  
> 16R


End file.
